Zenith
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: A collection of First War drabbles. First: Lily and Remus share letters.
1. Letters from Refuge

**A/N: Hey y'all! I think this is my first letter!fic, so… hopefully it was a success. This is just supposed to be a quick look into the First War. **

**Word Count: 412**

**Enjoy!**

_Dear Remus,_

_To answer your question in your previous letter, life in hiding is hardly glamorous or romantic, though I appreciate your attempt to make the situation less morbid. In truth, I think Harry is handling is better than James and I… he doesn't understand, of course, the danger he's in, but it's all I can think about at times. _

_James is going stir-crazy. He was never meant to be trapped between four walls, and it's enough to make me hope the war ends soon. He needs to stretch his legs, and I need a break from all this nervous energy. _

_In an effort to distract myself from the aforementioned subject, I've been reading the books you've sent. You are the only person I know who shares my love of Muggle literature, and I'm thanking you every day for supplying my need in the midst of the war. I've devoured nearly all of them, so if you have any collecting dust on your bookshelf, these hands eagerly await them. _

_Now, Remus, to heavier subjects. I know that you can't tell me much about your work for the Order, and your letters are hardly transparent—I don't have a clue where you are or who you're with. _

_So I beg of you, Remus… be careful. Sirius may be Harry's godfather, but my baby needs your influence in his life. I don't want him to grow up without his Uncle Moony. Promise me, Remus, that you will take care of yourself. You're like a brother to me and James, you know. You're a part of our family._

_All my love, _

_Lily_

* * *

_Dear Lily,_

_I was glad to receive your letter, but, unfortunately, circumstances prevent me from answering it in length. I will do my best to do so adequately despite my need for brevity. _

_I am very sorry to hear about James, though your frustration is one I remember well from our school days. He never has done well indoors, but I must remind you that you married him aware of this fact. _

_I shall send you more books at my earliest convenience, though I fear that won't be for a long while. Best pick your favorites, Lily, and memorize them._

_Finally, my safety cannot be promised. I will, however, promise to do whatever I can to protect this family of ours. It's not what you want to hear, I know, but it's the best I can offer at this time. _

_All my love, _

_Remus _


	2. Unprepared

**A/N: Hey y'all! **

**Word Count: 303**

**Enjoy!**

He'd wanted proof, at first. Because it didn't make sense. It didn't make sense at all. Why would James Potter—one of Scrimgeour's top Aurors—face the most dangerous wizard of all time without his wand?

It had come as enough of a shock that the man was dead. Srimgeour had known James was in danger, of course, but he hadn't ever been able to imagine the man dead; he was just too full of life. He had a wife, a son. But as much as the facts didn't add up, there was no denying that James Fleamont Potter had lost his life on October 31, 1981.

Scrimgeour had expected to walk into that house to see the signs of an epic struggle, a duel that would cause all the best Aurors to pause and just _remember_ the force that had been James Potter.

Instead, James' body was right there in the foyer, on display the second one walked through the door. There were no scratches on the walls, no knocked over tables—nothing.

Scrimgeour had tripped over the body in his search for proof of a fight. What he'd found was an untouched wand in the sitting room. Upon further inspection, the Aurors discovered that he hadn't cast a single offensive or defensive spell. For all they could figure, James Potter, glorified in the community though he was, had abandoned his wand after entertaining his son and gone to face Voldemort.

_Why?_

What could have been different if the man head had his wand? Why had he left it?

These questions would haunt Scrimgeour all his life. He'd trained the man, after all, with the assistance of Alastor Moody. What had gone wrong? Had he not prepared the man—he'd hardly been an adult, really—enough?

Scrimgeour would never know. And that scared him more than anything.


	3. First Born Fears

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. :)**

**Word Count: 1051**

**WARNINGS: Breastfeeding, so some parts of the female anatomy are mentioned. Don't like, don't read.**

**Enjoy!**

Her day started with a whole lot of yelling. Actually, screaming might be more accurate.

Molly's eyes flew open, the brown orbs wide and startled. One look at the clock told her it was three in the morning… and the baby was crying. Molly rubbed at her eyes and sat up, cooing softly at the little bundle sleeping between herself and Arthur. She picked Bill up, holding him tightly even as he squirmed, his tiny face growing red.

Molly bit her lip, exhausted. She'd been up and down all night with Bill, just as she had been for weeks. Distress was beginning to seep in; was she doing this right? Was he supposed to be crying so much?

But worrying wasn't helping her son. She bit her lip. "Okay, Molly, get your head in the game," she berated herself softly. "You've got this."

She didn't quite believe herself, but it was close enough.

"Shh, love, shh," she whispered. She smoothed Bill's little tufts of red hair as she pulled back her nightgown to feed him. "It's okay, love. It's okay."

She ignored the cold hitting her skin and guided Bill's mouth to her breast. He latched on eagerly and immediately quieted, his blue eyes drooping closed.

Molly sighed, relieved. Beside her, Arthur was stirring. The man could sleep through anything, but he typically woke when Bill did, even after Molly had gotten their son situated.

"Mollywobbles? Is everything all right?"

"Mmhmm. You can go back to sleep, dear."

But there was a wobble in her voice that Arthur detected, and he sat up groggily, reaching for his wand. "_Lumos_," he muttered, and a soft blue light filled the room. He grabbed his glasses off the bedside table, then turned to her. His eyes softened when he saw his son. "He's up early."

A small huff of exasperation escaped Molly. "And he'll be up again in another two hours, I'm sure." She yawned and shifted against the pillows. Bill let out a small noise of discontent, and she stopped. "Go back to bed, Arthur."

Arthur just raised a brow, clearly seeing right through her. "You've been quiet these past few days," he said softly. "You've seemed worried. Why?"

Molly let her eyes fall shut. Her grip tightened on the baby nursing on her bosom subconsciously as her fears and worries rose to the surface. "Arthur…" She took in a shuddering breath. "He isn't sleeping."

That wasn't _really_ the problem—it was a poor substitution for the problem, in fact. She knew that babies wake often at night; she knew that they needed to be fed every few hours… But what about everything she _didn't_ know? Her parents had passed years ago; so had Arthur's. She didn't have anyone to ask questions to. She was on her own, and it was her greatest fear that she would make a mistake.

She didn't know how to be a mother.

A hand squeezed her shoulder, and Molly opened her eyes to find Arthur's blue ones staring right at her. "Mollywobbles," he began softly, "babies will cry." A small smile twisted his lips. "And mothers will worry."

Tears pricked at her eyes, brought on by sleep deprivation and stress. "I don't—I don't want to do him wrong, Arthur. There's a war brewing—you know there is—and I just don't know how safe I can keep him, even at home…" She took a deep breath, trying to ground herself. She cursed her own weakness, and sent a prayer up to the heavens asking for some sort of miracle, because she couldn't do this on her own.

"Molly!" Arthur scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Molly's shoulders. "You are not in control here! You're not _supposed _to be." He kissed her round cheek. "This is out of your control, and that's okay. Do what you can, teach what you can, and it'll be okay."

With shaking hands, Molly turned Bill over and helped him find her other nipple. She glanced at her husband, overwhelmed. "I'm scared, Arthur," she admitted quietly. "I don't know how to do any of this."

Arthur pressed his lips to her temple once more, his freckled nose buried in her red curls. "Neither do I, Molly. We'll learn together, I promise. But look…" He gestured to Bill, who was suckling quietly. "I think we're doing a fair job already."

Molly leaned into Arthur's touch. "Maybe you're right."

Arthur chuckled. "You know, Molly, having a kid… it's everything I dreamed it would be." He pulled back so he could look his wife straight in the eyes, so she knew he was being sincere. "I'm so glad to be doing this with you."

She shot her husband a watery smile as a tear fell down her cheek. "I'm happy to be doing this with you, too, Arthur," she whispered.

By now, Bill had finished his late night dinner. Molly swaddled him again in his blanket, just in case it had loosened when she picked him up. Arthur helped her lay him back down onto the pillow bed between them. Molly sang a soft lullaby to lull him back to sleep; they'd discovered early on that he liked music. She was only too happy to comply.

Molly and Arthur waited with bated breath, wanting to make sure that Bill was sound asleep before they shifted on the mattress. Once they'd deemed it safe to settle back down, Arthur took Molly's hand in his.

Molly squeezed his fingers, enjoying the comfort he gave her. Her fears weren't gone, but they were settled for now. It was enough.

She yawned widely, and then turned to face her husband. Sleepily, she said, "I must confess, Arthur… all I want for Christmas is a full night of sleep."

Arthur grinned as he reached for his wand, ready to cast the room back into darkness. "I'm not sure I can get you that, Molly, dear. Maybe next year."

Molly smiled briefly, but then her face grew more serious. "Thank you, Arthur. I… I needed that tonight." She breathed in deeply. "You're always there when I need you."

"And I always will be," Arthur promised. He dragged the pad of his thumb across her knuckles in a soothing motion, and Molly let her eyes drift close.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you, too."

**A/N: **

**WC: Assorted Appreciation: 6. "It's everything I dreamed it would be."**

**WC: Disney Challenge: S3. Write about someone confessing something**

**WC: Trope of the Month: 7. (word) cold**

**WC: Space: 2. (word) home**

**WC: Book Club: Madame Zeroni — (plot point) helping someone, (word) curse, (word) lullaby**

**WC: Showtime: 11. (relationship) father**

**WC: Amber's Attic: 23. Write about someone with a positive attitude**

**WC: Press Play: 3. (word) miracle**

**WC: Liza's Loves: 15. "Okay, [own name], get your head in the game. You've got this."**

**WC: Angel's Archives: 8. (spell) Lumos**

**WC: Scamander's Case: 14. (trope) sharing a bed**

**WC: Bex's Basement: 14. "You are not in control here!"**

**WC: Film Festival: 7. (relationship) spouses**

**WC: Marvel Appreciation: 11. (color) red**

**WC: Lyric Alley: 4. And a new one just begun**

**Galleon Club: (word) distress**

**Southern Funfair: Nativity: Mary — write about a new mother**

**Northern: Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?: Step 1: (trope) sharing a bed**

**Eastern: Snow Art: Red: (dialogue) "All I want for Christmas is a full night of sleep.", Brown: (trope) bed sharing, Pink: (action) picking something up**

**97\. Prayer**

**991\. (first line) Her day started with a whole lot of yelling**


	4. Pieces of Paradise

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some Jily fluff for you. :)**

**Word Count: 748**

**Enjoy!**

Lily hummed softly as James' skilled fingers worked the tension out of her shoulders. A giddy sort of happiness bubbled up inside of her; they were married. She'd married James Potter, which would have horrified her five years ago, and she couldn't be more at peace.

Life was strange that way.

Lily leaned back into James' touch, letting herself melt. He chuckled softly behind her, but she didn't care. Let him laugh; she loved him. He loved her.

"Something on your mind, love?"

Lily blinked up at her husband, who'd leaned over her head so she could see him, his glasses dangling dangerously off of his nose. She smirked.

"Nothing, really. Just thinking."

"Yeah? About what?"

Lifting her hands to grab his face, Lily turned up her head so she could kiss him. "Only how much I love you," she murmured.

"Ah." James' adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "That's a nice thought, then."

Her green eyes sparkling, Lily nodded. "It is, yes. Now, come here. It's our night in, and I want to enjoy it with you."

James happily vaulted over the side of the sofa, landing next to Lily so gracefully it was unfair. She only cocked an eyebrow, though; she'd gotten used to James' athleticism. He just grinned cheekily in response and pulled her closer, then planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Lily made a face. "McGonagall would've called that vulgar behavior, you know."

James wagged his eyebrows. "Then it's a good thing she's not here, isn't it?"

Rolling her eyes, Lily decided not to respond. She grabbed the remote instead and switched on the telly, then made James pop a movie in. She watched her husband struggle with the Muggle technology for a bit, marvelling over the pure domesticity of it all. Ever since they'd bought their little cottage in Godric's Hollow, life just seemed to click into place.

It was their little slice of paradise, and Lily wouldn't trade it for the world.

Finally, James managed to cue up the movie. He hurried back to Lily's side and quickly pulled her against his chest. She laughed softly and laid her head down on his yellow jumper, which her mother had knitted for him. It was unbearably bright, but James loved it more than anything.

It was touching.

Twenty minutes into the film, James pressed a kiss to her temple. "Lily?"

"Hmm?"

James played with a strand of her red hair, twirling it around his fingers. He was looking at her oddly, his hazel eyes gazing intently into her face. "I… I was wondering if you wanted kids."

Lily's brows shot up to her hairline, and she sat up properly. "What?"

"Do you want kids?" James asked again, looking nervous but hopeful. "Because I… I do, Lily."

She blinked, caught off-guard. "We're in the middle of a war, James." It was true, even if it didn't feel like it at the present moment.

"Yeah, I know." He reached out slowly and took her hand in his. "That's why I'm sort of thinking it's now or never."

Lily opened her mouth to tell James why that was an absolutely horrid idea, but found herself pausing. Her first thought was that they were happy as they were—they didn't need children—but when she looked around, she imagined a black-haired little boy sitting between James and herself as they all watched a movie. She imagined a red-haired little girl sitting on James' knee, and maybe a hazel-eyed bundle in her own arms…

And it didn't seem wrong. It was scarily different, yes, but it was an alluring new thing.

Yes, they were young… but that hadn't been a problem when they were married. Yes, there was a war going on… but James was right—the future wasn't set in stone, so why waste this chance?

Lily ran a hand through James' unruly dark hair. "I…" She struggled to find the words she wanted to say. "I'm not totally opposed to the idea, but I want a bit to think about it. It's a big decision, you know." She hesitated. "Are you sure you want it?"

"I am," James answered firmly. His eyes were glowing so brightly. "And you can have all the time you need; I know it's not a decision to be made lightly." He squeezed his wife's hand, still grinning. "Thank you for giving it a chance."

Lily nodded slowly, then tugged him back over. "Let's finish the film," she whispered.

James kissed her in reply.


	5. End of the Line

**A/N: Hey y'all! This is pretty angsty… read the warnings, please. **

**Word Count: 434**

**WARNINGS: Fairly graphic torture (cruciatus)**

**Enjoy!**

Alice ran through the house, her heart beating wildly. She was crashing into the walls, knocking over vases and toppling paintings, but Alice didn't stop. There were Death Eaters in the house—she had to get to Neille.

Alice burst into the nursery and raced to the crib, scooping up the half-asleep babe and clutching him tightly to her chest. Neville stirred, his tiny fists flailing. Alice cooed at him, trying to keep him calm and quiet. Frank was holding back the Lestranges, but there was another masked man in the house…

And there was only one bedroom exit.

Alice ran her fingers through Neville's hair, which was brown like Frank's. Her heart ached at the sight, but she just didn't have the energy to be any more terrified than she already was. Alice closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to her son's head, trying not to think of her husband, who was battling alone downstairs.

It worked until she heard him scream.

The loud, piercing shriek startled both Alice and Neville, and the baby opened his mouth and began to wail in fear. Alice tried desperately to shush him, but half her focus was on Frank, who was clearly in pain.

Surely, someone would come in time, she tried to reason with herself. Surely a member of the Order was already on the way.

Then the door opened, letting Frank's screams in full-force. Alice flinched against the noise, but she had enough sense to raise her wand threateningly at the person entering.

"Now, there's really no need for that if you… cooperate." The masked man lifted his hands to his face and pulled off his mask; Alice was stunned to recognize him as Barty Crouch Jr.

Her grip on her wand tightened. "If you want my son," she said, her voice shaking with rage, "you'll have to get through me first."

Barty glanced over his shoulder, towards the screams from down below. "I don't think you'll be much of an obstacle."

He raised his wand, a malicious glint in his eyes, but Alice was faster. She cast a Shield Charm around Neville—and took the Cruciatus Curse herself.

Agony ripped through Alice like waves of fire, tearing apart her consciousness and destroying her nerves and tissue. She screamed so loudly she scared herself, and dimly, she was aware of her baby crying. But the Shield Charm was still encasing him, keeping him safe.

It was all she could hope for.

She lost all sense of self, eventually. But her spell protected Neville until help arrived… even if it was too late for the Longbottoms.


	6. Impending Parenthood

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some LilyJames fluff. **

**Word Count: 353**

**Enjoy!**

Lily could hardly believe the amount of work her husband was putting into the nursery.

She knew he was excited about becoming a father—they'd discussed having children for a couple years now—but James was never meticulous about _anything. _Now here he was, carefully weighing every decision to be made, from wallpaper to crib wood. He'd even convinced Peter and Remus, who had some artistic talent, to paint the ceiling so their baby would literally be sleeping under the stars.

It was touching, and she appreciated his dedication, but Lily suspected that there was something more at play. Her suspicions were confirmed when she confronted James.

He ran a hand through his hair and avoided her gaze. "I dunno, Lily. I suppose I just want… I want to do this right. I want his or her life to be perfect."

Lily smiled gently at her husband. "No one has a perfect life, James. And you'll be a fantastic father. You don't have to worry about impressing our baby."

James laughed lightly at that, but he still didn't seem convinced. "I… I want to be someone our kid can be proud of."

Lily stood on her tiptoes and pecked James on the lips. "Then just be yourself. Here." She took James' hands and placed them on the swell of her belly. The child inside responded to the touch and kicked up at James, whose face immediately went soft with awe. "Our child loves you already."

James rubbed her stomach, eagerly interacting with the baby. It was an odd sensation, being kicked from the inside out, but Lily could put up with anything that made James beam like that. She heart fluttered as he lowered his face to the bump.

"Is that right, baby?" he cooed. "Do you love Daddy?"

Another kick. James laughed delightedly. "That's a yes," he decided.

Lily hummed in agreement. "Sure is. Now, care to help me with lunch? I can't handle the smells."

James grinned and carded his fingers through Lily's red hair. "Anything for you two," he said, one hand still on the bump.

Yeah. He'd be a wonderful father.


End file.
